In the crisp morning air, James stepped outside after finishing his early stretching routine. The streets were just beginning to stir, with vendors setting up their stalls and shopkeepers dusting off their displays. For James, the morning was not just about fresh air but also about opportunity—an opportunity to earn a few pesos and lighten the load on his mother.
He was well aware of how hard she worked to provide for them. Their life was comfortable, but James believed that relying on comfort without preparation was a recipe for disaster. "Only an idiot waits for life to flip upside down before scrambling for a solution," he thought to himself.
As he strolled through the bustling street, James initially considered working some labor jobs to earn wages. However, the laws in this town were stricter than those in his hometown, making it difficult for someone his age to take up such work.
He paused for a moment, pondering his next move. Suddenly, an idea struck him—he could offer his help to local shopkeepers, especially with bookkeeping. While he was still a beginner in the field, his primary-level math skills were more than enough to handle the basic accounts for small businesses in the area.
"Maybe this could work," James muttered under his breath. His mind raced as he formulated a plan. The key to earning money, he realized, wasn't just about having skills; it was about communication and presenting oneself effectively.
James made his way to a nearby general store, its owner already busy sorting inventory. Taking a deep breath, he approached the man with a polite smile.
"Good morning, sir," James began, his tone confident but respectful. "I couldn't help but notice you have a lot of goods to manage. If you ever need help with your accounts or organizing records, I'd be happy to assist for a small fee."
The shopkeeper looked at James, a bit surprised by the young boy's initiative. "You're offering to do bookkeeping? At your age?"
"Yes, sir. I may be young, but I'm good with numbers. I can help you keep track of your expenses, profits, and inventory," James replied earnestly.
The shopkeeper scratched his chin, clearly intrigued. "Alright, let's see what you can do. If you're as good as you claim, I'll pay you for the work."
James nodded, determined to prove himself. As he rolled up his sleeves and got to work, he felt a spark of excitement. This wasn't just about earning money—it was about proving that he could take control of his circumstances and contribute meaningfully to their lives.
James sat at the small desk in the corner of the shop, surrounded by ledgers, loose papers, and a stack of receipts. The task at hand was daunting, but he was determined to see it through. As he went through the shopkeeper's books, he noticed something peculiar: all the entries were recorded using a singular method. From what he vaguely remembered, proper bookkeeping involved a dual process—a double-entry system. Though unsure of the specifics, James trusted his instincts and began to classify and organize the data as best he could.
Starting with the basics, James meticulously added up all the purchases, sales, and returns, separating each into distinct categories. He accounted for bad materials the shopkeeper had returned to suppliers, divided credit sales and cash sales, and even included direct expenses in his calculations.
After hours of concentration, trial, and error, James finally completed an estimated summary of the accounts. He felt a mix of satisfaction and apprehension as he walked up to the shopkeeper, holding the sheet with his neatly written calculations.
"Sir," James said respectfully, "I've completed the classification of your accounts."
The shopkeeper, who had been restocking shelves, turned to James with a raised eyebrow. "That was quick. Tell me more about it."
James cleared his throat and began explaining, his voice steady despite his nervousness. "Well, sir, you've made total purchases worth 650 pesos this month, with returns amounting to 100 pesos. That brings your net purchases to 550 pesos. On the sales side, you sold goods worth 1,380 pesos, but 130 pesos worth of goods were returned, leaving net sales at 1,250 pesos.
"This means you've made a gross profit of 600 pesos. However, after factoring in the 300 pesos you've paid in direct expenses, and accounting for 200 pesos owed to you by buyers and 150 pesos you owe to sellers, your total profit for the month stands at 350 pesos."
The shopkeeper stood in stunned silence, processing the detailed breakdown. He hadn't expected such thorough work from a boy so young. "You mean to tell me I've only made 350 pesos?" he finally asked, half-joking but impressed.
James nodded earnestly. "Yes, sir. These calculations account for all the details I could find."
Without a word, the shopkeeper reached into his drawer and pulled out a crisp 5-peso note. He handed it to James with a grin. "Well done, boy. You've actually managed to spot all those small details I would've ignored. To be honest, I had estimated a profit of around 600 pesos, but you've shown me the reality. You've got a bright future ahead of you."
James beamed as he accepted the payment—his first-ever earnings. It was a moment he would never forget.
The shopkeeper continued, "How about this: come by every month during the first week and help me calculate the previous month's accounts. I'll pay you handsomely."
James was elated but quickly thought of an idea to expand his opportunities. "Thank you, sir. I'd be happy to help. However, I have a small favor to ask."
"Go on," the shopkeeper said, intrigued.
"Could you please introduce me to your merchant friends who might also need help with their accounts? I'd be truly delighted if you could," James replied in a soft, polite tone, his young voice filled with hope.
The shopkeeper chuckled. "You've got guts, kid. I like that. I'll see what I can do. Come back next week, and I'll have some names for you."
That evening, Ricardo joined his merchant friends at their usual gathering spot, a modest but lively tea house where the town's traders often exchanged news and advice. As the group settled in, laughing and chatting about their day, Ricardo waited for the perfect moment to speak. Finally, he leaned forward, his voice lowering slightly to draw attention.
"You won't believe what happened at my shop today," he began, catching the ears of the group.
"Oh? Did your supplier finally show up on time?" joked Santiago, a grocer with a knack for teasing.
"No, this is about James, that kid who lives with his mother near the old stone apartments," Ricardo replied, ignoring the laughter that followed.
"James?" Alvarez, the town's tailor, raised an eyebrow. "What about him? Isn't he that quiet boy who's always running errands for his mother?"
Ricardo nodded. "That's the one. He showed up this morning asking if I needed help with my books. At first, I thought it was just another kid looking for pocket change. But I gave him my ledger, just to humor him. You know how messy my records can get by the end of the month."
The group chuckled knowingly. Ricardo wasn't exactly known for his organization.
"And?" Mateo, the fishmonger, prompted, leaning in.
"And the boy worked through the whole thing in a matter of hours," Ricardo said, his tone serious. "Not only did he calculate my total purchases and sales, but he also caught errors I hadn't noticed—like returns I forgot to subtract and debts I hadn't accounted for. When he finished, he told me I'd made a profit of 350 pesos this month—not the 600 I'd been assuming."
The group fell silent, surprised.
"Wait, wait," Santiago said, holding up a hand. "You're telling me a twelve-year-old did all that? Without formal training?"
"I'm telling you he's got talent," Ricardo insisted. "He even categorized everything—cash sales, credit sales, direct expenses. And the way he explained it, I actually understood what he was talking about. He's sharp. Smarter than some of the bookkeepers I've paid in the past."
"That's impressive," Alvarez admitted, stroking his chin. "And he did this all on his own?"
Ricardo nodded. "He's got a head for numbers, that's for sure. I paid him five pesos for the work—he was thrilled, by the way. But then he asked me for a favor."
"What kind of favor?" Mateo asked.
"He asked if I could introduce him to other merchants who might need his help," Ricardo said, smiling faintly. "Said he wants to earn more so he can help his mother. You all know how hard she works, raising him on her own after what she's been through."
The group exchanged looks, their expressions softening.
"I could use someone like that," Alvarez said after a moment. "My books have been a mess for weeks, and I've been too busy to sort them out."
"Same here," Santiago added. "If the boy can handle Ricardo's accounts, I'm sure he can handle mine. I'd be willing to pay him a fair rate."
"Let's not forget, he's still a kid," Mateo said. "We should make sure we're not overworking him. But yeah, I'd give him a chance."
Ricardo grinned. "I'll bring him around tomorrow, then. Just be ready to give him a fair shot—and maybe a bit of encouragement. The boy's got potential, and I don't think we should let it go to waste."
The merchants agreed, intrigued by Ricardo's story and eager to meet the young accountant. As they moved on to other topics, Ricardo felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing he'd taken a small step to help James find more opportunities.
The next morning, with the sun barely peeking over the horizon, James decided to visit Mr. Richard's shop. He still had five days before school began, and he wanted to make good use of his time. As he approached the modest storefront, the familiar scent of dried herbs and freshly stacked goods greeted him.
James stepped inside, and Mr. Richard, who was arranging some supplies behind the counter, looked up. A warm smile spread across his face.
"Ah, James! Good to see you, lad. What brings you here so early?" Mr. Richard asked, setting down a bundle of dried basil.
James returned the smile, polite as ever. "Good morning, Mr. Richard. I hope I'm not interrupting. I just wanted to check if you had a chance to think about the favor I asked for yesterday."
Mr. Richard chuckled, wiping his hands on his apron as he stepped closer. "Interrupting? Not at all. You're always welcome here. And about your favor—well, I've got good news for you."
James' eyes lit up. "Really? What did they say?"
"Well," Mr. Richard began, leaning on the counter, "last night, I mentioned your work to a few of my merchant friends. Told them how you handled my accounts so neatly, caught errors I'd overlooked, and even explained it all better than some adults I've hired before. They were impressed, to say the least."
James couldn't hide the excitement growing within him. "Does that mean…?"
Mr. Richard nodded. "That means they're interested in meeting you. In fact, Alvarez, the tailor, and Santiago, the grocer, asked me to bring you by their shops today if you had the time. They want to see if you can help with their books too."
A huge grin spread across James' face. "Thank you, sir! I'll make sure to do my best."
Mr. Richard smiled back, pleased with the boy's enthusiasm. "I'm sure you will. But remember, James, take it one step at a time. Don't push yourself too hard, alright? You're young, and you've already impressed me and the others. The rest will come naturally."
James nodded firmly. "I will, Mr. Richard. And thank you again for helping me. I won't let you down."
"Good lad," Mr. Richard said, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Now, why don't you grab yourself a drink of water and get ready? We'll head out in a little while. Let's see what the others think of our young accountant."
As James poured himself a glass of water from the jug by the counter, he couldn't help but feel a growing sense of pride and determination. This was his chance to make a name for himself, to prove that he could contribute to his household in a meaningful way. With Mr. Richard's support, James felt ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead.